Thomas Jefferson was convinced the Constitution would require rewriting by the government every 19 years, roughly every generation, to remain current and fair to the people.

“Every constitution, then, and every law, naturally expires at the end of nineteen years. If it be enforced longer, it is an act of force, and not of right. It may be said, that the succeeding generation exercising, in fact, the power of repeal, this leaves them as free as if the constitution or law had been expressly limited to nineteen years only . But the power of repeal is not an equivalent. It might be, indeed, if every form of government were so perfectly contrived, that the will of the majority could always be obtained, fairly and without impediment. But this is true of no form. The people cannot assemble themselves; their representation is unequal and vicious. Various checks are opposed to every legislative proposition. Factions get possession of the public councils, bribery corrupts them, personal interests lead them astray from the general interests of their constituents; and other impediments arise, so as to prove to every practical man, that a law of limited duration is much more manageable than one which needs a repeal.” –Thomas Jefferson to James Madison, 1789. ME 7:459, Papers 15:396

In Billionaires and Bagmen, Sean Cogan has had enough of a system gone bad. He believes the time to rewrite the rules is long overdue, but anything less than a radical action would fail to gain momentum toward real change.

With a small band of friends Cogan takes on the corrupt government in a big way. They soon discover the resources and reach of the government are endless when politicians feel threatened, and that some will stop at nothing to protect their best interests.

Campaign strategist Howie Ratson: a heavyset, balding, confident and supremely committed man, had managed campaigns and won elections that people said he could never win – often on behalf of candidates who weren’t even close to being considered electable.

“OK,” Ratson said, “Just lay low. Don’t say anything. Don’t try to upstage anyone. If reporters come up to you, tell them you’ll have a statement after the debate. Then after it’s all over, have a little press gathering outside or in a hallway. At that point, you can steal their thunder by making a strong, succinct, down-home statement. Say something like: ‘Hey, I’ve been around public policy issues for a long time. I’ve got damn good political instincts. And I’ll tell you what. I don’t trust this guy Cogan. Not one bit. I have a feeling that we haven’t learned everything there is to know about Mr. Cogan. He’s not the decent sort of man he’s trying to portray. Decent young men don’t betray their country. Mark my words. I’ll stake my entire reputation on it. Then hold up a Fairview cap and wave it around and say: ‘If I’m wrong about Cogan, I’ll call a press conference and eat my hat on camera.’

“Do that and you’ll be on every news clip that comes out of the debate.”

“Let your imagination run wild. Come up with a short list of the worst allegations you can think of that could be made against somebody in connection with an election campaign.”

“Sometimes,” confirmed Giller, “on especially sensitive projects, we work with a private organization, a private company, run by a guy, by a highly connected D.C. big hat. It gets involved in projects so controversial there’s a need to avoid all oversight. Because it’s private, it reports to no one.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I’ve grown very concerned. I recently learned that the government maintains detailed personal files-not just on people suspected of criminal activities-but on all kinds of people. Even its own,” Giller paused, “its own intelligence agents for example. People like me.

”I was anonymously sent a copy of my file. And I couldn’t believe it. Bank records, prescription drug records, video surveillance, a political profile, lists of books purchased, transcripts of conversations in my car recorded from the speaker system for my cellphone, wiretaps of conversations with my ex, with my kids, with friends, with my family therapist, with accountants, attorneys, doctors . . .”

“Conversations you had in your car?”

“Yeah. They know everything that goes on in your car. They can even take satellite control of it through the computer systems installed by the manufacturer.”

“But why? Why would the government do that?”

“One can only guess. But in some countries we used to do it to build dossiers on people so that if it ever became necessary, the government would know just who to round up. So it could put people where they couldn’t cause problems, or so they could just disappear. It was one thing for us to be doing some of these things overseas. But here? Now?”

Before we go spouting off about freedom, democracy, and the right to vote for our leaders, let’s take a look at what the Founding Fathers actually had in mind…

The great men who designed our nation’s election system were tasked with freeing us from tyrannical rule by royalty. They were certain that a) eliminating influence by special interest (including the British), was imperative; b) our Leaders should be elected by chosen electors that held particular values dear; c) political parties were to be avoided; d) candidates should not campaign for election; e) State’s Rights, a hot topic around the churches and pubs, could cause loss of control over the nation, and f) the balance between Congress and the Presidency was vital to protecting liberty and avoiding totalitarianism.

In other words, The People did not know what was best for them, and politics were to be played carefully to build the new nation—in a manner that was far from a democracy. More important than the ability to follow the will of The People, a candidate’s valued traits were prudence, financial success, vested interest, gender, race, and apparently, good connections. Basically, an all-around solid guy that met the criteria and supported their goals.

“Depend upon it, Sir, it is dangerous to open so fruitful a source of controversy and altercation as would be opened by attempting to alter the qualifications of voters; there will be no end to it. New claims will arise; women will demand the vote; lads from 12 to 21 will think their rights not enough attended to; and every man who has not a farthing, will demand an equal voice with any other, in all acts of state. It tends to confound and destroy all distinctions, and prostrate all ranks to one common level. ~ John Adams

The Constitution had been put into place to preserve liberty, protect freedoms, and limit the powers of government. Period. It was never intended to give The People a fair voice.

Electing the President

The Electoral College, a group of hand-picked gents that were held in high-esteem by the current leaders, decided who would take the seat of office. The purpose of the system was, most simply, to limit the power of the democracy and to protect The People from themselves, as well as foreign influences.

With this, they would avoid the potential of The People erroneously electing a dictator, or placing another Royal Family in charge of the country. Or making poor choices as The People tend to do.

Until 1796 only one candidate was chosen, eliminating the potential need for campaigning. The People simply voted one candidate into office, with a blessing of sorts.

Until then, it was said, and widely believed that, “The office should seek the man, the man should not seek the office.” But Jefferson contested the Federalist incumbent on the Republican “ticket,” creating the first Two-Party election, and a new way of seeking the presidency began. For better or worse.

As the new government gained breadth and girth, people really started questioning the principles of democracy, and how this election method supported the Will of the People. Granted, the electoral college system helped to avoid some issues caused by the wide spread of population, but that also favored the electorate by allowing the more populated (and modernized) states an increased presence.

“Each State shall appoint, in such a Manner as the Legislature thereof may direct, a Number of Electors, equal to the whole Number of Senators and Representatives to which the State may be entitled in the Congress; but no Senator or Representative, or Person holding an Office of Trust or Profit under the United States, shall be appointed as an Elector. ~ Article II, Section I U.S. Constitution

Over the next decade of elections it became apparent The People wanted more of a say in the decision. The fundamental principles of the country started to evolve away from Liberty (free from oppression) and toward Democracy (controlled by the citizen majority).

By 1828, on the heels of the great financial crisis of 1820, The People really started questioning the government and the growing power it held over them. The ever-expanding executive powers were under close scrutiny and the talk of the town. The Democrat Party was born; the two-party system was validated, and the presidency became a highly-prized position. Political campaigns by the candidates were developed to help voters choose the man who best supported their ideals. The election of 1828 drove the new two-party election period into a frenzy that closely resembles the campaign roller-coaster we know today.

It was a great step forward for democracy, but, as with all politics, the campaigning also gained attention by special interest groups. The increasing costs of campaigning, as well as the benefits of investing in them, encouraged those with an agenda to gain favor and changed the system forever.

Where do The People factor into all of this? We elect those that choose the electors. We listen to speeches and debates; we watch commercials and read media coverage from all sides of the mountain. We protest and comment and blog; we complain and yell and scream our frustrations, and we wind up voting for the lesser of two evils because we feel we have no choice. Then we vote and rush home to see what the electors have decided.

In the end, we are right where we have been placed and doing exactly what we were supposed to do.

What Will It Take?

Constitutional Amendments are within reach of our elected officials. What will it take for The People to wake up and demand we change this archaic method of determining our fate to a system that elects by popular vote? Or are we destined to suffer through indefinite four-year terms of a Government that makes our decisions for us and acts in its own best interest?

Religion is one of those things most of us were taught not to talk about in polite company. It’s too personal. Too controversial. But, given the world we live in today, maybe the time has come to change our thinking in that regard.

It is difficult for me to talk about the subject of religion without addressing my own experience. So here goes.

I went to a Catholic grammar school. My classmates and I memorized prayers, said the rosary, and went to Mass (in Latin) every Sunday and on Holy Days of Obligation. We recited the Stations of the Cross, depicting specific occurrences of the crucification, from the crowning of thorns to the Resurrection of Jesus to heaven three days after his death. We ate no meat on Fridays, we fasted, gave things up for Lent, attended spiritual Retreats, lit candles, prayed to specific Saints, studied the Catechism every day. We raised money for missions to convert non Catholics so that they would be cleansed through Baptism of the original sins they were born with, qualifying them to spend all eternity in heaven with God and all the saints. One way to become a saint was to be martyred, killed, like Joan of Arc, for defending your faith and refusing to betray your beliefs, thus dying for God.

The Nuns who taught us wore habits which covered their entire bodies and all of their hair and skin except for a portion of their faces and hands. Women could not enter a church unless their heads were covered. We went to Confession on Saturdays where we acknowledged any mortal sins we had committed during the previous week such as a murder, or having had dirty thoughts, or watched a movie banned by the Catholic Legion of Decency.

We had patron saints. We studied the lives of apostles, read the Bible, blessed ourselves with the sign of the cross and wrote JMJ on our homework submissions. We learned about miracles that had been performed; about cripples that had been cured and blind people that could now see; about the diseased brought back to health. There were Holy Places. Like Lourdes in France; and Fatima where the Blessed Virgin appeared to three children. Shrines were constructed. Cathedrals were built. There was Holy Water. There were Blessings. There were Indulgences. There was Absolution.

I once baptized my best friend, Robert, without his knowledge, so that we could spend eternity together.

We had the rules, the rituals, the unhesitating beliefs, down pat.

We knew, KNEW, that we were the chosen. The children of God. Other religions were not.

Over the centuries wars were fought, millions died, countless innocent people were slaughtered. Children were sacrificed. Witches were burned alive.

All in the name of Faith.

For me it was a slow process, but when Cardinal Spellman spoke out in favor of the Viet Nam War, justifying napalm and blanket bombing massacres, in the name of killing Godless Communists, that was it. I’d finally had it.

I decided that spirituality and a person’s belief in God were entirely different from blind adherence to the authority of church leaders. Including the often divisive articles of faith that were an integral part of my, and all, organized religions. Goodbye to “Goodbye to Us vs. Them.” Hello to “We are all God’s children.” Goodbye to “gobbledegook.” Hello to “The Golden Rule.”

But beliefs are strong. Religious practices are strong. Some people speak in tongues. Holy Rollers roll around on the ground. Preachers scream and holler at tent revivals. Some think its evil to medicate their own sick children. People bang their heads on walls and whip themselves with lashes on pilgrimages as punishment for their evil ways. They wear beanies and miters and pointed hats and golden slippers. They carry staffs and sit on thrones. And meet in secret conclaves to pick leaders announcing their progress to breathless flocks of the faithful by way of colored smoke signals.

What can I say? A billion Christians? A billion Hindus? A billion Muslims? Plus all the assorted Jews and Buddhists? Are they all right?